Mourning the Losses
by Catmint
Summary: AUmovieverse. The night after the victory in Helm's Deep, Aragorn receives distressing news of Arwen news which shatters his world completely. Please R&R.


Mourning the Losses

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Disclaimer: Still not mine. Property of Tolkien/whoever else.

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A/N: This isn't the first 'What would happen to Aragorn if he lost Arwen?' fic, and I'm sure it won't be the last, either. This is AU, and there are references to The Two Towers movie in it. If there are any typos that I have missed, _please_ let me know via e-mail and I will correct them. If you flame, I will use it to toast marshmallows.

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A/N 2: I've just updated this, as the original contained something that is not possible in Middle-Earth (can't say more without ruining the plot) – something that I admit I completely forgot about. 

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"We _stuffed_ 'em!" hollered Gimli the dwarf, standing atop his chair. "We _stuffed_ those filthy, stinking Uruk-hai!" He waved his pipe in the air, overbalancing and landing heavily on the floor.

The others in the room laughed, and the Elf Legolas hauled him back onto the chair. "Be more careful next time, my small friend," he advised, smiling.

"It is a time of celebration, my lad!" protested Gimli, throwing up his hands and showering their close friend Aragorn with ash from his pipe. Aragorn smiled in amusement and dusted the ash from himself. Gimli saw this and hastily apologised. "Sorry, Aragorn. I was caught up in the excitement."

"That is perfectly all right," replied Aragorn, removing his own pipe from his mouth to speak. "Perhaps you wish me to return the gesture?"

"No, no; no need for that!" said Gimli hastily, sitting down.

"If you are sure."

"It is good to be able to relax for once," commented Éomer. He glanced around the room, which was empty apart from the quartet. "Has anyone seen my sister? Aragorn? She was pleased to see _your_ return especially."

Aragorn shrugged disinterestedly. "I believe I was only one of a number of people she embraced upon the end of the battle."

"Her brother, her uncle and a few cousins," added Legolas pointedly. "But I could not fail to notice her immense relief after the Warg attack, when you were feared dead."

"It was a mere tumble," replied Aragorn offhandedly, shrugging.

"A mere tumble? A _mere tumble_?! You fell over a cliff that was more than a hundred feet in height!" exploded Gimli. "We all thought that you'd been _killed_, and then you return, fight in the ensuing battle and now you sit there claiming it was _a mere tumble_?!"

Aragorn said nothing, his face and eyes as impassive as ever, his only action being to carry on smoking his pipe.

"Éowyn has set her eye upon you, Lord Aragorn," remarked Éomer. "Believe me, for I know my sister well, and better than she thinks."

"She knows my heart is with another," responded Aragorn, his hand straying to the jewel at his throat. "I have no interest in Éowyn; intelligent and beautiful though she certainly is, Arwen Undómiel she is not, and never will be."

"My sister knows this?"

"I hope so, for I _have_ told her." Aragorn turned to Legolas, his face grave. "There were a great number of Elves lost, Legolas." He was clearly determined to ensure a change of subject, one that had nothing to do with Éowyn's interest in him.

The Elf nodded sadly. "Indeed. But they died bravely, and will not be forgotten. I can guarantee that."

The group looked up as the door opened and two Elves entered behind Éowyn. She turned to Aragorn. "Visitors for you, Lord Aragorn."

Aragorn removed his pipe from his mouth. "Elladan, Elrohir. I did not expect to see you here. Have you come to visit Théoden, with news from your region?"

"Not to Théoden," replied Elladan, and his twin shook his head. "We have news of Arwen, for you." Their faces were grave.

Aragorn hesitated, fearing their next words from their facial expressions. "What – what news of her?"

Elrohir bowed his head. "A fortnight ago, our sister was injured by an arrow fired by an Orc. A poisoned arrow. The result was cruel and violent, and Arwen was in great distress. We were with her, never leaving her side unless our father ordered us to."

Elladan bowed his head also. "Seven days ago, the day before we set out to inform you of her injury, the poison claimed her, and – and she died."

"She asked us to give you her final words," continued Elrohir. "She said, 'I love Aragorn son of Arathorn, Elendil's heir, and no other. All I ask is that he keep the jewel I gave to him'."

Aragorn slowly got to his feet. "Arwen is – Arwen is _dead_?" he asked in disbelief.

The twins nodded sadly, and Elladan placed a hand on his foster brother's shoulder. "I am sorry, Estel."

Aragorn flinched at the words, pulling away from Elladan's touch. "I wish to be alone," he said quietly, ignoring his friends and leaving the room. He could not accept Elladan's words; Elves were immortal! They weren't supposed to die! Certainly not Arwen!

Yet I witnessed the deaths of many, only a few hours ago, he thought as he angrily stormed down the hallway, causing others o shrink to the edges, out of his path, until he reached his room. He slammed the door shut and let out a scream of rage, much like he had done when Gimli had found the hobbit's belt in the smouldering pile of burning Orcs, and he dropped to his knees. _I lose all those I love_, he thought in despair. _My father, whom I do not remember; my mother; Boromir, at the hands of Orcs and Uruk-hai; many Elven friends, also at their filthy hands…_

And now Arwen. The one I have loved more than all the others I have lost, put together, and the one I dreaded losing most of all.

Someone knocked on the door. "Aragorn?" called Legolas. "Are you in there?" He hesitantly stepped into the room.

"I thought I had told you that I wished to be alone!" whispered Aragorn, willing the tears away. It did not work, for they began to fall regardless.

Legolas crossed the room and knelt in from of him. "I heard you, Aragorn. But I think perhaps you could do with a friend or two for support."

"I would rather be by myself, Greenleaf!" hissed Aragorn furiously, striding over to the window. "You could not imagine how much Arwen means to me!"

"_Meant_," Legolas sadly corrected him. "If I cannot imagine it, explain it to me."

Aragorn shook his head, mentally cursing the tears that continued to fall. "No. Now leave me. _Please_."

"Aragorn –"

"_Go_!" the grief-stricken man screamed, turning round and flinging a nearby pillow at the Elf. Legolas ducked just in time and he regarded Aragorn intently and sadly. "Do not do anything stupid to yourself, Aragorn," he pleaded. "_Please_."

Aragorn did not respond, but there was a dead look in his green-grey eyes that frightened the Elf more than the pillow-throwing Aragorn. Legolas knew him well, and he was frightened now. Aragorn could do anything, now that he did not have Arwen. Even when the two had been apart, they had always been able to hope that they would see each other again. Now, though, that hope had gone and, with it, Legolas feared, Aragorn's heart. The Elf hurried from the room, knowing that only Gandalf would have any chance of aiding Aragorn now. 

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Aragorn sank down onto the edge of his bed, head buried in his rough hands, his entire body shaking with sobs. He had nothing left to live for, now Arwen was gone forever. He knew also that the twins would not, _could_ not, lie to him. They were two of the most honest people he knew, and they loved their sister and their foster brother too dearly to lie about such a grave issue. They knew how much Arwen meant to him.

So why remain alive? he thought suddenly. _When Arwen died, my heart also died._

Wiping the tears away, Aragorn got to his feet and located some writing tools, including paper and ink. He paused momentarily, deliberating what to say, then proceeded to write a letter. He signed it and placed it on the bed, before unsheathing his dagger and plunging the blade into the vein of first one arm and then the other, ripping the veins open. He lay down on the bed, ignoring the pain, and closed his eyes, whispering, "I will love you forever, Arwen Undómiel."

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A while later, Legolas, now thoroughly convinced that Aragorn would not heed his words, tore down the hallways, yelling desperately for Gandalf, Théoden, the twins, Gimli and Éomer in a manner most unusual for the Elven prince of Mirkwood.

"Legolas?" asked Gandalf, emerging from a room in which Théoden, amongst others, sat. "What is wrong?"

Legolas skidded to a halt. "Arwen has died from a poisoned arrow from an Orc," he informed the wizard, panic clear in his voice. "Elrond's twin sons brought news earlier. I fear Aragorn may do something to harm himself. You must come at once!"

"Lead the way."

Legolas set off at a run, Gandalf close behind. The Elf threw open the door of Aragorn's room and stopped abruptly upon seeing Aragorn's still, blood-covered form on the bed. "A-Aragorn?" he whispered uncertainly.

Gandalf approached the bed and checked Aragorn for any sign of life. He let his hand drop and shook his head sadly. "He is gone, Legolas."

"There is a letter," said the Elf, moving to the bed and picking up the item after briefly examining Aragorn's ripped, blood-covered arm.

"What does it say?"

Legolas unfolded it and read it silently to himself, his blue eyes filling with tears. "He – he – he took his own life."

"The letter, Legolas."

Legolas handed him the letter, too upset to speak, and Gandalf read it silently to himself.

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I have taken my own life tonight. Nobody else was involved in this act. The loss of Arwen Undómiel is too great for me to bear and I have always known that I would be unable to go on living, were I to lose her forever. Arwen was everything to me, and more. My heart is broken beyond repair, shattered the moment that I knew I had lost her. She departed a week ago; it was a week ago that I suddenly found myself strangely low and constantly wanting to weep. Now the riddle has been solved. I cannot bear to live without her; therefore I will not live. If I were to go on existing, I would be a mere shell of a man, something that I would not be able to tolerate.

Please send word to Denethor, Steward of Gondor. I know he has done a fine job thus far and, now that Elendil's line has finally ceased to exist, as the exiled King of Gondor, I wish Denethor to accept the throne, and the title and position of King of Gondor.

Aragorn (Estel, Strider, Longshanks, Wingfoot, Stick-at-naught, Thorongil, and whatever else others have called me) 

Gandalf looked up, his face sad. "The others need to know of this."

Legolas nodded. "I – I shall ask the twins to inform Lord Elrond. I am sure he would like to know; Aragorn was, in nearly all senses, his own child." He slipped out of the room and, in a daze, wandered back to the room in which only a few hours earlier Aragorn had been teasing Gimli about showering him in pipe-ash. He could barely believe it, even though he had seen Aragorn for himself.

He slowly pushed open the door of the room he had originally come from. Elladan rose to his feet and stared at him in shock. He spoke to him in Elvish: "Legolas, what has happened? Where are you hurt? You have blood on you!"

Legolas turned tear-filled eyes to him and answered in the Common Speech for the benefit of the others. "It is not my blood. I – I – I found Aragorn … in his room, just now…"

"He has been hurt?" asked Éomer in alarm, jumping to his feet.

Legolas did not wipe away the tears that were now falling openly. "The – the news of Lady Arwen wounded him grievously…"

"He has injured himself in some way?"

Legolas bowed his head, his voice dropping to a whisper. "He – he took his own life."

"He _what_?!" exploded Gimli in disbelief.

"Before – before we left Rivendell with the hobbits and Boromir, Aragorn told me that if he were to lose Arwen forever, he would be unable to bear the pain of her departure. She – she was everything to him. More than everything."

Silence fell as they absorbed the sad news. Éowyn threw her arms around her brother and buried her face in his shoulder, weeping. Éomer held her tightly, stunned by the news. Gimli let his pipe fall from his hand. The twins sought comfort in each other, and Legolas sank to the floor.

"Our hope is gone, then," said Elrohir softly. "Our Estel."

"Surely there are others?" queried Éomer.

"Denethor's rule is weakening, and his line is not as strong as that of Elendil," answered Elladan.

"Denethor's elder son Boromir was driven mad by the Ring," said Legolas from where he remained crouched on the floor. "I know not how strong his younger brother Faramir is, for I have never met him. It is long since I was in Gondor."

"I believe he and Boromir to be alike in appearance but not character," said Éomer. "Faramir is calmer and more gentle, though I do not believe his courage to be less than that of his brother."

They fell silent for a while, until Gandalf appeared with Théoden. Both looked deeply troubled, and Théoden's face bore evidence of recent weeping. He stepped forward. "A trusted messenger has been sent to Gondor. Aragorn will be taken to his country and laid to rest in the halls of his ancestors. It is, after all, only right."

Elladan raised his head from his brother's shoulder, wiping away his tears. "If you have no objections, King Théoden, my brother and I would appreciate an overnight rest here, before departing back to Rivendell to inform our father of this tragedy. Aragorn was our brother in all but race, and our father will be deeply grieved."

"Remain as long as you wish," replied Théoden.

Legolas stood again. "Let us hope that Merry and Pippin will grace us with their presence soon, and that, most importantly of all, Frodo and Sam can destroy the One Ring. But tonight … tonight is for mourning the losses of the battle, and of Arwen and Aragorn."

"Indeed it is, Legolas," said Théoden quietly. "Indeed it is."

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~ End ~


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